Ell Cove to Tenakee Springs

(Karen writes) We awoke to grey skies and lingering drizzle. We had decided the night before that we were going to dinghy out to the white beach and explore it a bit before we departed for Tenakee Springs. Sometime between breakfast and launching the dinghy, a green-canvased Grand Banks named Junie Moon dropped anchor in Adirondack’sold spot. We waved as we dinghied out to see what we could see. What did we see? A beehive of seiners milling about outside of Ell Cove. I guess we know now where our two cove-mates were headed at the crack of dawn! We watched them a bit as we headed for the beach, which abuts the Kasnyku waterfall.

It really is an amazing beach – long and wide and truly made of white sand, rather than the typical “Rock” beach you see in Alaska and British Columbia. We easily beached the dinghy and had a great walk, beachcombing and looking at a wide variety of barnacles and mussels and all sorts of things that are uncovered at low tide.

One of the best "beaches" we walked on this trip. Lots of things to explore, both large and small

Life clings on to everything

Beauty on the Beach

Rorschach test in the sand. Anyone esle see a chicken. 

Nature's pallette

Bob poses in front of the river

The river rushes out to the sea

Fresh water feeds to the saltwater ocean

Green grasses trive near the river's edge.

Karen holds some of her "treasures" collected from the beach

Our dinghy always looks soooo small in Alaska

We walked to the foot of the falls, and definitely felt like we were in bear territory, although we saw none (and that was fine with us). While we were out walking, the Grand Banks that had just arrived in Ell Cove departed. Wonder what he was doing?

We dinghied back to Arctic Star, and quickly weighed anchor. We had a 46 mile run to Tenakee Springs ahead of us and we wanted to get a move on. However, we didn’t expect to spend about 45 minutes weaving our way through the seiners! At one point, we counted over 60 of them, and Bob tried to take a photo of the radar picture that showed all these targets. 

The fishery if now open and everyone is here

Working our way through the fishing fleet

 They were hard at work, these seiners...setting nets by launching their tenders, and then making large (and usually counterclockwise) circles with the big boat to close them, then hauling their catch. It was a like a mad ballet, boats going every which way in various stages of setting and hauling. Just when you thought you had a clear path out, one would start to set their nets. It was fun to see and weave our way through.

 The main ship launches the tender who holds its positions as the seiner pays out the net

 The seiner makes a circles as the net is set. The net tender job looks lonely.

 The ballet of all the seiners manages somehow not to tangle all the nets

While it never got sunny, the drizzle ended and we had a nice ride up to Tenakee. We didn’t see many boats after the seiner spot. Bob and I traded off 2-hour watches to allow the other person some relaxation time. I think it took about 5+ hours to get to Tenakee. We didn’t see any interesting wildlife, just a nice Fleming cruiser headed north and a megayacht, Shadowfaxthat we followed toward Tenakee.

We have never been to Tenakee before, but heard it was a cute little town (35 year round residents) that serves as a summer destination for Juneau-ites.  There was little information about the docks or their orientation, so we just played it by ear. As we approached, we first “parked” on C dock, but after looking at a map of the docks taped to the harbormaster’s “office”, we saw that we were not located on the transient dock, so we moved to the inside of D dock. We were helped with our lines by Ed and his friend from the Pacific Pixie, a Camano Troll. Shortly after we settled in, Ed’s friends arrived on The Spirit of Balto, a custom 52 steel trawler. We helped them with their lines and then decided to go explore Tenakee after paying our moorage to Wendy, the harbormaster, as she walked the docks checking out the new arrivals.

Tenakee has no roads, just a “path” to “town” that allows passage by ATVs or bikes. It is about a ¾ mile or so into the center of town. There are lots of cabins and houses on “Tenakee” avenue.  The views are quite pretty across the inlet to a variety of little hills and mountains. The cabins vary from quite primitive to relatively new construction. It is a really cute place.

Entering Tenakee Springs

The primary attraction appears to be the sulphur hot springs in the ‘bath house’. Women and men are not allowed to bathe together – hours are clearly posted for men and for women. No bathing suits allowed. I’m sure the warm water would feel amazing. I find it funny that men’s hours are from 10pm to 9am and then again in the afternoon. I wonder if that’s because all the fishermen tie one on late in the evening and go to the springs to sober up?

The gender specific times are clearly posted. No excuses!

The place in town that attracted my attention the most is the Party Time Bakery, which looked cute. We plan to have breakfast there tomorrow. There is no cell service here, and no internet other than what may be available at the library, which isn’t open until Saturday.

The Party Time Bakery is the hub of Tenakee Springs

The public restroom in Tenakee Springs. Yes, the plumbing work as you suspect.

Karen comes down from inspecting the library at the end of the road.

Everything on the water side of the town is built on pilings

One of the original summer cottages from the early days of Tenakee Springs

Back to the boat, a grilled cheese and Canadian bacon sandwich for dinnner, and off to a good night’s sleep!

Takatz Bay to Ell Cove

(Karen writes) As forecast, we awoke to gray skies and drizzle. We lazed about, thinking about our plans for the day. We had talked about kayaking, but the weather was not inviting. We saw Lee and Dave from Sonata launch the tender to go check their crab pots. On their way, they swung by our boat to hand off a baggie full of freshly caught and cooked prawns. That was extremely nice of them!

As we had a leisurely breakfast, Sonata and Blue C’s weighed anchor and headed off for other destinations. It wasn’t long before the Seiners followed suit. And, we finally found the next episode of Alaska Reality TV. The guys on the sailboat apparently had set up camp on the islet overnight. Why? I have no idea...but 3three guys came out of the woods and hopped into a dinghy, leaving one compatriot on the islet, sitting there with no hat in the rain. Must be a guy thing?

We decided to head a few miles north to Ell Cove, which is supposed to be a well protected and attractive anchorage. It rained the whole way up, and as we entered the cove, we saw a pretty white beach just north that looked worth exploring.  A few kayakers were hauled out on the beach doing exactly that. We thought that after anchoring, we might do the same.

Ell Cove is as advertised…well protected once you turn down the 2^nd portion of the “L”. Steep to, there are no views out into Chatham Strait. You kind of feel like you are all alone in the world, as we were the only boat there.

Bob kind of wanted to launch the dinghy, but I was less excited about it, so I decided to read while he decided to make fresh bread. Keeping bread on the boat is tough – it takes up too much room in the freezer and it doesn’t fare well at room temperature. I’ve never had Bob-baked bread, so I was anticipating something pretty darned good. It took TONS of steps to make, but it turned out to be really good. No surprise there!

We really just “vegged out” all day. The rain never let up. About 5pm, the blue seiner Adirondack came in and anchored at the bend in the “L”, with a view outside. We figured that the cove was too small for anyone other than a small boat to join us now that Adirondack was there. By the time we went to bed about 10, it was just the two of us.

I awoke at 11pm to what I thought was the sound of our anchor dragging across rocks. Not a pleasant thing! So I left Bob asleep and went up to the salon to look out…and it was lit up like Manhattan at night. A second seiner had barreled in and dropped the anchor (rather noisily, I might add) behind us. He had all his lights burning, and it was blinding! OK, I knew what that sound was, so I went back to bed.

At 3:48am, more noise and motion woke both Bob and I.  We got up to take a look, and the 2^nd seiner departed Ell Cove, with Adirondack already missing. We could only imagine that some fishery opened early that morning and they both were making a beeline for the best fishing spots. Whatever it was, it did not make for a peaceful night’s sleep, so we went back to bed and slept in till about 8.

Red Bluff Bay to Takatz Bay via Warm Springs

The morning dawned to another perfectly clear and delightful weather pattern. We retrieved the anchor and set our course for Warm Springs.

Checking out the “Cascades” as we leave Red Bluff Bay

Saying goodbye again to Sonata

Warm Springs is a bit of a destination stop. The little community of Baranof is built next to a large lake-fed waterfall. It was once a source of hydroelectric power, but apparently that is no longer in service. There are a few homes and a boardwalk that extends to the actual warm springs and then on to Lake Baranof.

Waterfall, the homes and the docks at Warm Springs

The docks at Warm Springs

The boardwalk makes for a pleasant half mile walk to the lake. The warm springs are about half that distance. There is a bit of a steep portion of mountain goat climbing just off the boardwalk to get to the springs. However, it is well traveled,and Karen reports that it is worth the exertion, if for nothing else than to see the views.

If you don’t want to bathe in the natural sulfur springs, there is a public bath house just at the head of the docks where the warm springs’ water is piped in. There are three private large tubs with great views of the bay.

A beautiful view from the Warm Springs bath house

Warm Springs is popular, so finding space on either side of the 200’ float can sometimes be a challenge. The other variable is the seiner fleet, who often tie up awaiting the opening of their fishery. Today that was the case. The dock was full of rafted fishing boats (with more at anchor) with the exception of one small sail boat and two Nordhavns rafted together.

There was also a mix of fishing vessels and pleasure boats anchored in the harbor so we set off to find a more secluded place to drop the hook and then dinghy back to the dock. We went into the southern arm, but found the anchorage a bit too deep and close to the shore for our comfort, so we traversed over to Schooner Cove and found a very pleasing one-boat anchorage.

Southern Arm headwaters

We took the dinghy over to the dock, and began to explore Warm Springs. The boardwalk is well maintained and makes the walk as easy as can be. It is uphill about 400 feet over the course of the trail, but it’s very pleasant with lots of great views of the falls and the headwaters of the lake as you go. When you arrive at the lake, you’ll find a beautiful small rocky beach and perfectly clear water. It’s shallow enough for some good water romping in the shallows and relatively warm owing to its southern exposure and shallow depth.

The boardwalk at Warm Springs is well maintained

Follow the signs to the natural Warm Springs

Karen returns from checking out the Warm Springs

The lake that feeds to waterfall is pristine and well worth the walk

The shallows at the end of the trail are inviting

Karen poses along the trial to the lake

A couple of cabins with movable zip codes. Nothing is permanent in Alaska.

When we returned to the docks, the two Nordhavns had left as well as one of the seiners, whose spot was taken over by a sailboat. We walked the docks, did some snooping, and then headed back to Arctic Star. Despite liking the anchorage, we thought that Takatz Bay, about 4 miles north, might be a more interesting place to overnight, so we weighed anchor and headed off.

The Warm Springs docks as viewed from the boardwalk

Another souvenir from Warm Springs

Leaving the bay, we passed a pocket cruiser inbound to Warm Springs. I can only image the impact 80 to 100 people would be to the boardwalk and the springs. We’re glad we’re leaving…and that our experience was without the crowds.

Takatz Bay was described by Lee of Sonata as another Alpine-like and protected bay. We passed a couple of seiners anchored along the north shore of the outer bay. We headed to the inner bay at Takatz. There we found Sonata, two seiners , a sailboat (Bear Hunter) and a blue hulled Coastal Passagemaker called Blue C’s. It took awhile to find a spot among all these boats. Finally, we dropped the anchor in 60 feet of water. I almost got us in the exact middle of all the boats, but when we would swing in a certain direction, we would be within 75 yards of the seiner, Lady Jane. Not perfect, but safe.

The wind was still up, looping around the bay at about 10-15 knots. All the boats would spin on their rode and seldom would there be a majority pointing in the same direction. When I was out taking pictures from the deck of Arctic Star, I heard some gunshots. A check with the binoculars revealed that three crewmen from one the seiners were on shore and shooting who knows what. I think it was simply target practice to relieve the boredom as they waited for their fishery to open. After they left the “shooting range beach”, they motored over to a small islet that dominates the bay. Two jumped off and climbed to the top of the small islet while the remaining crewmember positioned his dinghy for a series of photos. Then the drama began. The Honda outboard would not restart. After much pulling on the starter cord, the paddles came out and were put in the water. He tried to make good his course back to the islet to rescue his companions, but the wind and ebbing current made his efforts difficult. Karen watched, glued to her binoculars. I teased her that this was “Alaskan Reality TV”, a replacement for the myriad of reality TV shows she enjoys at home.

“Take my picture”

Eventually the crewmembers were retrieved from the islet and they then rowed back to their boat.

Now we changed the channel on “Alaskan Reality TV. On another islet (that revealed itself to be attached to the shore at low tide), we spotted two dinghies tied to some trees. However, we never saw any people. The hours passed and still no sight of anyone. The dinghies were high and dry…but where were their owners?

Look closely and you'll see the dinghy, high and dry between the islets

I deduced that both must be from the nearby sailboat. The dinghy with the motor would hang from the davit at the stern and the other one, which only had oars, would be stowed on the cabin deck. As we went to bed, the dinghies remained where they were, dried on a rocky ledge. We had a running voice-over commentary of what might be going on that islet. We’ll have to wait for the next episode of Alaskan Reality TV to find out if our theories were right.

Shrimp stir-fry, with fresh caught Alaskan prawns rounded out the day

Red Bluff Bay

The sun is in control today. The skies are clear. It’s amazing. Our plan is to wait for high tide and paddle the kayaks up the river as far as we can.

Karen woke quite early, and was up at 5:30am to see what was going on in the anchorage. About 6am, a tender from the Maple Leaf sailboat was filled with 10 people and headed to shore, disappearing into a swale for some sort of hike. Karen was quite happy to be warmly ensconced in our boat, sipping on coffee and waiting for me to awake.  Not long after the tender returned to the sailboat, both it and the wooden boat Discovery headed out to find greener pastures. Given that the small sailboat “Summer Wind II” had also departed early, we had this glorious anchorage to ourselves for a while.

About 9:45am, Karen spotted a grizzly on shore, our first-ever sighting. The bear was quite camoflauged against the reddish low tide shores, but we were able to watch for a while before he disappeared at a trot up that same swale the passengers from Maple Leaf had walked a few hours earlier! And then around the corner came…Sonata!

While we waited for the flood to come in, Karen set up camp on the foredeck with her Nook and consumed a couple of more books. She is up to 33 books read so far on this trip. Only the horseflies drove her back inside.

As the tide rose, so did the winds. We launched the kayaks with 15 knots of winds quartering from our sterns with light chop in the bay. We made good courses that kept the waves quartered on the bow. This was a non-direct course, but a much better paddle. Once near the opposite shore, the relative wind and waves were astern and we paddled the entrance to the river.

The entrance to the river at the head at Red Bluff Bay

We made our way up the river, riding the flood tide for about a third the distance. Then we found the outflow from the river creating turbulence where it met the tide, so we started to paddle harder. We managed to get within 50 yards of the navigable end, when the current got the better of us. No matter our stroke, we could do no better than hold our position.

After a quick 180 degree course reversal, we joined up and rode the current out. As we approached the end of the river and the entrance to the bay, we ran into headwinds again and more chop. It was a hard paddle back to Arctic Star. We’ll chalk this up as our daily exercise session.

Our friends on Sonata arrive in Red Bluff Bay

The rest of the afternoon was spent relaxing, looking for more bear (unsuccessfully), watching other boats come in (like the Nordic Tug Kirkwall), doing fuel calculations to determine our route options and generally enjoying the perfect weather conditions.

Dinner of Beef Bolognese over penne

Gut Bay to Red Bluff Bay

Mickie’s Winter Basin in Gut Bay proved to be a spectacular place. The morning started with the usual overcast, but the sun soon started to part the clouds. After seeing me running all over the decks of Arctic Star with my camera, Lee from Sonata came over in his tender and offered to drive me around for some better angles. That’s the kind of people you meet while cruising.

It was low tide, so we went over to the entrance to take a look and snap a few images for future reference. I managed to take a couple of nice photos of Sonata and Arctic Star. I wanted to get a really nice “portrait” of Sonata for Lee that I could send him in thanks.

Sonata sits in front of the large waterfall

Sonata looks majestic against the backdrop of granite and waterfalls

Sometimes Arctic Star looks big, and other times, as here she looks small

Arctic Star in Margie's Winter Basin

It doesn't get much more spectacular than this

As we wrapped up our photo mission, Lee suggested that we go out and check his prawn traps in the large Gut Bay around the corner. We swung by Arctic Star and let Karen know our plans and also picked up Dave from Sonata, and off we went. As I mentioned, it was just coming up off of low tide so we only had just enough water for Lee’s tender to make it though with only one bump at the bow. Going though at low tide gave us all a great mental picture of the narrow passage that would come in handy later when we departed at high tide.

Checking in with Karen to let her know “the boys” are off for a little adventure

Leaving the entrance to Mickie's Winter Basin near low tide give you a good look at the contours of the passage

I’ve been out with a few people before to tend to prawn and crab pots, but Lee definitely has it figured out. The wide beam of the boat combined with the electric retrieval wench made easy work of hauling in 300 foot of line with two prawn pots at the bitter end. I took notes of the technique for using floating line with weights to prevent the line snagging on rocks. All in all, a great learning experience, and by-the-by, the pots did contain a nice harvest of prawns. Apparently, while I was gone having fun, Karen cleaned the boat and opened it up to get some fresh air inside after all the rain. Wonder who had more fun?

Lee mans the hoist to retrieve the prawn pots

Transferring the catch to the awaiting bucket

Success!

Sonata's tender is a great way to get around

Waiting for high tide that was predicted for around 1 pm, I continued to take pictures of this beautiful place as the clouds and light danced across the mountains, trees and water.

Critters have been a little scarce in this bay. The beach is perfect for bear, but all that we have seen on the beach is a Sitka Black Tail deer. I did manage to spot a Bald Eagle landing on the shore line and then eating a catch from earlier. Not very pretty, but interesting to watch.

A Bald Eagle working on a tasty morsel for and earlier catch

Karen polishes off another book on her Nook

As high tide approached, we lifted the anchor, along with a lot of sticky mud and some kelp. It’s a pain to clean off, but makes for a secure night’s sleep. Of course, as we departed, the wind started to funnel in through the narrow opening, making for some additional fun.

Blue skies make an appearance at Mickie's Winter Basin

Good holding in Mickie's Winter Basin

The narrow entrance to Mickie’s Winter Basin was traversed by following the course we used coming in. The area that was nothing but large rocks and rapids when I saw it this morning at low tide in Lee’s tender was now smooth with a moderate outflow. We passed over those same large boulders that were now just below the surface.

 

Leaving Mickie's Winter Basin at high tide makes for a safe passage

Our destination was not far. We decided to anchor at the head of the adjacent large bay at the mouth of the river. Into the kayaks we went to enjoy a paddle up the river. From the end of the open portion of the river we made it another 100 yards into a large 1 foot deep “pond”. This area will dry quickly when the tide goes out only leaving the narrow stream, but for now it was tranquil. However, I didn’t want to dally long, as I had no intention of portaging my kayak if the tide got too low. We reversed course and rode the river’s flow into the receding tidal flow.

Karen paddling around the shallow “pond”

Karen playing around the head of the river. The area is a rocky falls when the tide recedes.

Gut Bay is large but beautiful

Karen is dwarfed by the surrounding mountains

These boulders sit “on the beach” at low water

When we returned to Arctic Star, we had been joined in the anchorage by our friends on Sonata. A quick pass by in the kayaks and fond farewells were exchanged until we meet again.

Sonata and Arctic Star anchored in Gut Bay

Saying goodbye to Lee on Sonata

There is an interesting phenomenon that we witnessed in this area where fresh water runs into a body of salt water. The fresh water sits on top at a depth of six feet or so. At the top of saltwater layer there forms a layer of algae. When you look into the water you think you are seeing the bottom, but it’s only this thin layer of green life. I’ve never seen this before, but we have now observed it a couple of times on the last few days.

With the kayaks on board, we headed north to Red Bluff Bay. This is a similar alpine feeling location to Gut Bay, but one that is much more popular. There are a couple of spectacular waterfalls in the entrance channel and the drying beaches are known to be frequented by brown bear.

The entrance to Red Bluff Bay

There was only one sailboat in the anchorage when we arrived. Karen was predicting there would be six boats, so we felt lucky. Around 7:30 pm a classic motor vessel Discovery anchored. They look as if they do “adventure cruising” in this 1930’s-ish motor yacht. The passengers were all on deck enjoying the views as the vessel approached and anchored. But as soon as the anchor was set, all hands disappeared to the main salon, presumably for dinner.

Another hour or two passed when we spotted a two masted steel sailing vessel. The Maple Leaf out of Canada made her appearance. The passengers on this ship where also out on deck. However they were all bundled up as if they had spent most of the day on deck in the elements. Such is the differences between a sailing and a motor vessel. She also anchored and we enjoyed watching the alpenglow over the mountains before heading off to bed.

Another beautiful sunset in Red Bluff Bay